


There is Light

by A_J_Crowley



Series: The Good Book Of Omens [3]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alpha Centauri - Freeform, Archangels, Comfort, Comforting Aziraphale (Good Omens), Emotional, Falling In Love, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friendship/Love, God Ships Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Heaven, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Love, M/M, Multi, Pre-Canon, Pre-Canon: Good Omens, Pre-Fall (Good Omens), Promises, The Ineffable Plan (Good Omens), Young Aziraphale (Good Omens), Young Crowley (Good Omens), crowley falls to earth, making stars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-20
Updated: 2019-09-20
Packaged: 2020-10-24 20:44:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20712260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_J_Crowley/pseuds/A_J_Crowley
Summary: When God created Crowley, She did not make him alone. Aziraphale was there; his fate ineffably bound to the new angel; as certain as the pull of orbiting stars.This fic follows Crowley from his first, stumbling day of creation. Comforted by a friendly face he will grow to love over six millennia, their destiny is linked by a promise uttered before the very beginning of time.





	There is Light

At first, there is simply light. A soft glow of pale white iridescence too beautiful to summon into words. It covers everything; spanning in all directions and leaking into dimensions the newly-forged angel cannot yet perceive.

He is floating; a tiny, ethereal cluster of stars amid the blinding white backdrop of Heaven. He has no shape, no distinctive form to call his own – only a bright, coppery band of cosmos that will one day become hair, and the twinkling of golden stardust to form eyes as rich and as warm as the sun.

_Where… where am I?_

The first thoughts flow out of him; fragile as a murmur; but they are there, regardless. He shifts, rolling in the infinite void of creation, new and alive and… _scared._

He does not yet know what he is, or who he will become; as vital a part of the Great Plan as gravity to the Earth. Now, he is alone. And he is frightened.

_Mother? God… are you there?_

He can feel Her. Nowhere and everywhere all at once. Her presence brushes against his - firm and strong and comforting. But he is blind to Her true form. He cannot see Her; not yet.

Terrified, the newly-created angel curls in on himself, the stars swirling to form galaxies in his wake. He is disorientated by the space of it all; by the feeling of being _real. _Not so long ago, he was a concept in Her mind. An idea. A feeling. Now, he exists.

_He is..._

He faulters, fumbling for a name; something to call himself. But his young consciousness is new and ever expanding; filled with tongues from creatures not yet formed. They will come, later. In their own time. Whenever they too are ready to be real.

And that’s when the angel feels it. An emotion, bubbling in a small orb of planetary rock soon to form his heart. _Loneliness. _He reaches out; out into the light; stretching cosmic tendrils like willow fronds as beads of moisture form the first pattering of rain in Heaven. Tears of a newborn’s cry.

_“Don’t be afraid…” _

A voice. It bleeds into the great expanse, as powerful as a thunderclap in what had always been silence. God’s latest angel shrinks away, suddenly fearful at the revelation of noise. _Someone else is in the void. _

He senses him before he can see him. A sanctuary of warmth in a world constructed of ice. It draws him in. There is comfort here. There is… _love_. Kind, unfathomable adoration for things yet to come.

Wings envelope him; soft, cosmic clouds of meteor dust orbiting a constellation of eyes. They blink at him, a thousand strong, each scoured with blue fire.

_“Who are you?” _The young angel asks, curling a tendril of stars around the stranger’s form, as though to root himself there.

The other considers this before replying.

“I am not yet named; that is something to be gifted.” He answers gently, in a tone that sounds like the distant boom of colliding galaxies.

The young angel coils tighter, his snaking constellation suddenly seeking the urge to embrace. _To feel._ He knows this presence. It’s a deep, primal knowing; a past life perhaps?

The other angel smiles; a purple band across the heavens with millions of small, glittering teeth.

She will later call it the Milky Way.

“You cannot perceive how long I have waited for you.” He breathes, spilling colour into the void. “I was here for your inception, when our Mother claimed you were nothing more than a figment She would bestow upon the universe. I stayed here and watched you for a hundred lifetimes, as each star across your body found the will to become life. I didn’t want for you to feel alone.”

There is a silence that follows those words, but it is peaceful. Absolute. An exchange of kinship that will last until the end of all things. The young angel settles in its promise, feeling dizzy as his soul begins to take shape; a glowing, ethereal ball of light that is borne upon the canvas of creation. It blooms like a flower, blinding in its pursuit, as it is pulled into the orbit of another.

For a time, the two stars twirl clumsily; staggering steps in their celestial dance. They are identically alike; a mirror image of their counterpart, with just enough magnetism to stop them from colliding.

“Alpha Centauri.” The name pours from the newest angel, his copper band of hair leeching into the cosmos of his brother’s wings. He feels the power emanating from their souls; newly shaped and ablaze with the promise of divinity.

The older angel sighs. It’s a soft, beautiful thing. The roar of the ocean. The rushing of wind.

The universe seems to breathe with him.

Tender and loving and… _sad._

The younger angel notices with a start.

“Do you not like it?” he asks, disappointment paling his lustrous colours, until he is little more than milky wisp of nebulous cloud.

The older angel shakes himself, the blue fire of his eyes twinkling.

“It is perfect.” He whispers in reassurance, his tone gratingly raw. “It is simply that I will miss you when you go…”

There is a pause. It stretches outward, encompassing what seems like centuries. The two entities continue to circle, lost in the proximity of their orbit; taking company in the certainty of it.

“Where am I going?” the little angel enquiries at last. _He does not want to leave._

“I cannot say.” replies the other, his many eyes flickering with the unnatural hue of molten ice. “But it is destined to be so. A long time from now.”

“But… But what if I want to stay with _you?”_

There is a sadness in the newest soul. Deep and mournful for things that have not yet come to pass. The white glow of the heavens faulters as if in answer, leaking black ink into the void until only the ethereal light of the stars shimmer against the pitch.

The older angel spreads out his wings, encompassing the darkness like a widow’s veil. _He is crying. _

“It is part of the Great Plan.” He whimpers - and on a distant planet somewhere, he is sure he can sense the chill of first snow. “It is not mine to change. She has orchestrated our steps long before we were borne unto this plane. I have seen it; heard it; a story woven into the fabric of eternity. It will be difficult. And sometimes, it will be painful. But it will always be _beautiful._

He pauses, his tears frosting like the trails of meteors spinning haplessly in the cavern of space. “And it is a journey you will not take alone. I have asked if I be allowed to follow you there.”

The little angel gazes up, his sunshine eyes partially obscured; slitted into snake-like orbs by a passing eclipse. “You… you’ll come with me?”

“Yes. In time.” The older angel smiles. “We will meet in a garden, many years from now. I will wait for you on the Eastern wall and hold your hand as the world crumbles, and the sky burns. We will meet, again and again. Hundreds of times over a thousand lives. I will find you. In the fire. In the flood. And even when you believe that I am gone… I will betray all the angels in Heaven to make it back to you.

“I choose you, my dear. Over God. Over righteousness, and victory, and the glory of being holy. Over everything. _For always, my dearest Crowley...”_

The newest angel shudders, the gifting of his name flooding him; _drowning him. _He gasps, seeing their sprawling future together; his budding mind blooming with the notion of millennia bound to the angel. Tighter than the pull of gravity to the Earth.

He sees a little bookshop nestled in the rain; a foggy city that speaks of isolation; entwined with the notion of being home. He feels the warmth of the dusty shelves crammed with the words of man; the tranquillity of a garden entombed between walls of concrete grey. He witnesses it all; the promise of his Mother’s plan; the fall that will leave him bitter at the mere mention of Her name. The agony of abandonment; the coldness of a world endowed in the shadow of Her wrath; bereft of Heaven’s ethereal light. Of his belly dragging against the roughness of soil. Of despair and heartache and… love.

_Love._

It is everywhere; rippling through the fractures of time; mending the ache. He sees it clearly now. A head of pale white curls; of eyes as blue as Pluto's glacial oceans. A cherubim smile that will make him yearn for the certainty of his immortal life, without the alluring promise of redemption. He will be theirs; as much as Crowley will be his - a forgotten memory of goodness and virtue and all things worth existing for.

_“Aziraphale…” _The name tumbles into the void, colliding with the explosive requiem of dying stars. The newest angel reaches for him; their nebula intertwining; shades of purple, pink and green combining to form a literal manifestation of _them. _

“I… I love you.”

The older angel glows at the confession, wings fluttering, painting an aurora of light into the cosmos. His emotions drip like ichor from a scared wound; gushing; _unstoppable. _

No further words needed be spoken, nor utterances bared. The two angels simply coil in each other’s embrace as the universe is birthed about them; forming moons and planets and stars. Then atmosphere and volcanoes and seas. Life comes with it – and the spiralling galaxies no longer seem so desolate as Heavenly eyes take note of their creations.

They both understand what is coming. They know it; as certain as they know each other. With each passing decade, their vessels take a more distinguishable shape, developing limbs and teeth and skin; pulling away from each other – softy at first - as their minds ebb and unravel like petals in Autumn, forgetting the Springtime found their partner’s face.

But it is needed. To save the world and the untold lives of babes not yet born; a star needs to fall. He needs to forget.

And centuries later, when his wings shatter against an ocean of churning sulphur, he gazes up at the sky and weeps, a single promise formed in his heart; branded there from the very beginning of time.

“I will wait for you…” He cries, screaming to the stars; to the blur of a figure he cannot recall. “I choose you. I love you!”

_Always._

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed this GO fic, please take a gander at the other parts in this ineffable series - filled with humour, angst and oh, so much fluff!
> 
> There is plenty more still to come!


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